


Cas' Perfect Date

by queen_of_hells_bells



Series: So I got bored... [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bookstore, Fluff, M/M, Mechanic Dean Winchester, POV - Castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-27
Updated: 2014-02-27
Packaged: 2018-01-13 22:36:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1243063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queen_of_hells_bells/pseuds/queen_of_hells_bells
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cas works at a bookstore, Dean is his regular customer, and Cas is awkward.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cas' Perfect Date

The man came in every single day. Every single day at exactly 12:11 pm. Every day he would browse the history section, then the mythology section, then the supernatural section, then murder mysteries. Every day he would end up in the cd section, and every day he would buy a cd; usually some rock band from the eighties, but sometimes other stuff, weird stuff. One day he’d bought Andre Rieu, then another day he’d bought best of John Williams. He also bought a book every day, but there seemed to be no rhyme or reason to the book selection: first it had been something about the history of law, then a comic book (Batman), then a John Grishman thriller, the next a Nicholas Sparks book.

Every day the man would come in at 12:11 pm, browse until 12:36, wander up to the register, place his purchases lovingly on the counter, pull out an old, broken leather wallet, and buy his book and cd. Every day he would say “hello”, and smile, his eyes lighting up like he was genuinely pleased to see whoever was checking him out. Every day he left at exactly 12:41.

And every day it was the best half-hour of pretty much every store employee. Not because the man was smiley or talkative or particularly kind or anything; mostly just because he was so attractive. He had short brown hair that was always spiky--not from gel, but more just because he ran his fingers through it so often. His hands were always a little dirty, lightly stained from work. He was a mechanic, they knew because he always came in wearing his blue coverall. And they knew his name was Dean because it was sewed on the uniform in lovely white stitch. It didn’t matter how much grease was on him, because if he was dirty, he was always so careful not to let the fabric touch anything.

His eyes were the greenest green to ever green, as far as the employees were concerned. They regularly sat in the armchairs after he left, comparing his eyes to different things. Meg thought they were the color of the Spotify emblem; Lisa disagreed, claiming the color to be closer to the green of dewy grass when the sun shines on it; and Carmen thought it was more along the lines of the Slytherin green.

Castiel disagreed completely, though he never voiced his opinion, because he wasn’t quite sure how to word it. To him, Dean’s eyes weren’t just a color, they were an emotion, a feeling. They were melancholy and happiness rolled into one, the feeling of wonderment an astronaut must feel when looking down on the Earth, when you hug someone you’ve missed, that excitement that comes with hearing the title of a book in the book itself, the crazy of an ocean during a storm, and so much, much more.

But he didn’t know how to say it, so he didn’t.

 

When Dean came into the store the next day, Castiel was the one working the register. It had been a slow day, so the girls figured his anti-social behavior wouldn’t scare anyone off. Apparently Dean wasn’t ‘anyone’.

Dean bought a cd of Cole Porter and _Lamb_ by Christopher Moore that day.

When he walked up to the register, he glanced at Castiel and winked. “Hey Cas.”

Castiel was astounded. He’d never spoken to the man, and he already had a nickname. He wanted to say ‘hey’ back, to be cool and suave like he never was. He wanted to impress Dean with his relaxed and totally normal behavior. He wanted to say ‘I’d very much like you to fuck me over this desk.’

But he didn’t know how to say it, so he didn’t.

 

Every day for the next two weeks Dean came into the store at precisely 12:11 pm and sought out Castiel, greeting him with a quiet “Hey Cas” and asking his advice on which books to get, and educating him on which cd’s he should listen to. Then they’d walk to the cash register, and Castiel would check out, Dean giving him a quick “See ya, Cas.”

As soon as Dean was gone, the girls would bombard Castiel with questions about Dean—what he’d said, what he’d bought, how attractive he’d looked. And Castiel would respond with slightly flustered answers about that Dean was a nice man and had looked just as attractive as usual, and what he’d bought that day.

He wanted to tell them that he was definitely falling for Dean, a little bit every day, but that he was pretty sure Dean didn’t like him. He wanted to tell them that he was pretty sure Dean was straight, and would laugh at Castiel if Castiel told him how he felt. He wanted their advice on what to do, and wanted to cry on their shoulders like in the movies.

But he didn’t know how to say it, so he didn’t.

 

On Friday Dean came into the store at 11:44 instead of 12:11, and he wasn’t wearing his coverall, he was wearing jeans and a white t-shirt under an unbuttoned flannel. He had showered, and smelled like cinnamon and cedar instead of motor oil and grease. His hair was spiky because it was still wet from the shower instead of streaked with grease and finger strokes. And he looked almost nervous instead of his usual casualness.

And Castiel didn’t even know how to breathe anymore. The was too much. He’d been able to deal with Dean in his normal clothes, all dirty and smelly, as gorgeous as that image was. But Dean all clean and shiny and... _normal_ was worse. Because now Dean should be attainable, but he still wasn’t, because...well, because Dean was Dean and Castiel was Castiel.

“Hey Cas. I wanna ask your advice.” Castiel put on his best attentive face, as distracting as Dean’s current condition might be. “Right. So...I have a date tonight.” Oh. Of course he did. Attractive guy like Dean probably had dates every night of the week. Some leggy blonde with big brown eyes, or a busty brunette with green eyes to match Dean’s.

Pushing down his angsty thoughts, Castiel found his voice: “Oh? That’s nice. I hope you have fun.”

“The thing is, Cas,” Dean’s voice was soft, almost teasing. “That I haven’t asked ‘em yet. And I was wondering if you could give me some advice. ‘Cause they’re a bit...niche.”

Cas swallowed his discomfort. Dean wanted him to give advice on how to ask out a girl. A girl who wasn’t _him_. Well, obviously. He wasn’t a girl. “Well, what’s she like?”

“They...tall, nearly as tall as me. Dark hair, absolutely _amazing_ eyes. Smart as a whip, funny, if a little awkward. Quiet. Beautiful. Loves books.”

“You sound like you really like her.” _Awkward. Loves books. Tall._ Dean could have been describing _him_. This was so unfair.

He looked up to see Dean nodding at him, slowly. “Yeah. I do.” There was something...different in his voice, something fond and soft. Loving.

And Castiel would never deny Dean what he loved. “Well,” he looked back down at the computer so that he wouldn’t have to see Dean’s eyes. “Ask her if she wants to get a coffee. I understand that that is typical first date behavior. Then take her to a bookstore. Not the one she usually goes to, somewhere new. Maybe in a different town. Just watch her browse, only give your opinion if she asks for it. Then take her out to dinner.” Castiel wasn’t giving advice for Dean’s mystery girl anymore, he was telling Dean what _he_ wanted to do with him. _His_ perfect date. “Take her to a diner, get her a milkshake and fries, because everyone loves that. Take her to a park, hold her when she reads, bring her tea when she gets too involved in her books. And every now and then interrupt her reading to kiss her. She’ll need it. And never take her to the movie adaptation of her favorite book, unless she suggests it. She’ll never forgive you.” He finished abruptly, just soaking up the silence.

Until the silence went on too long, and looked up to see Dean just smiling at him. “What?”

Dean shook his head, a sign Castiel was accustomed to as being one of derision. He started to feel ashamed, as though he’d gone too far. Until Dean spoke: “Cas, while I don’t know where you got the idea I was going to ask out a girl, that was really solid advice. I think I'll use it.” Castiel tilted his head to the side, making Dean laugh again. He watched as Dean walked around the counter to stand beside him, grinning as he began another one of their epic staring contests.

“Cas, would you like to get a coffee? Because I understand that it’s typical first date behavior. And maybe after coffee we could get in my car and drive to a new town with a bookstore you’ve never been to before. After I watch you browse the shelves, and you buy several tons of books, I was thinking we could go to a diner and get fries and shakes. I’ll probably get vanilla because I’m a traditionalist, but I’ll be fine if you want something weird like Strawberry.” Castiel’s mouth was hanging slightly open, and he was vaguely aware that the girls had gathered at one of the shelves to eavesdrop, but he didn’t care because Dean was talking, and _this_ was what he was saying. “I know you love to read, so I was thinking that on the way back from wherever we go, you could read one of your new books to me, even if it’s some boring as shit history book. And if it goes well, maybe we could go to the park, you could meet my dog--she’s an idiot, but I love her--and when it rains I could tuck you into a windowsill with a blanket and a book, bring you tea every now and then. But you’ll have to accept that every once in awhile I’ll tackle you and kiss you senseless. And I want to take you to movies--I like movies--but not any book adaptations, because apparently you’ll get pissy. But that’s ok, because I don’t want to do anything you don’t want to do. Ever.” Dean paused, suddenly looking nervous again. “Because, Cas, I want a forever with you, but...I was thinking maybe forever could start with coffee.”

There were a lot of things Castiel wanted to say: that of course he wanted to go for coffee, that he wanted to do everything Dean had said, that he wanted a forever with Dean, that his dog sounded wonderful, even if only because she belonged to Dean. He wanted to voice all the fears he’d had that Dean didn’t like him back, or that he was just teasing him. But he didn’t know how, so he just stared at Dean.

Dean’s smile turned nervous, and he began to back away slowly. “Buh-but if you don’t, I can just go ask some girl. Sorry. This is awkward...god, I am _such_ an _idiot_...I shouldn’t have assumed that you...Sorry. Really, I didn't mean to, I just thought we were...um, yeah. Sorry. Look, I'm just gonna go....” He was still backing away, he was _backing away_ , and oh _hell_ no.

Castiel may not have known how to say anything, but he knew how to act, so he did. Instead of speaking, he just lunged forward and kissed Dean soundly, silently promising forever with his lips.

**Author's Note:**

> I just really love writing Cas' inner monologue, ok?


End file.
